


What You Are to Me

by Renai_chan



Series: Kings of Their Universes [1]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), DCU (Movies), Man of Steel (2013), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Double Penetration, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Multi, porn with minimal plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Bruce, Steve, Clark and Tony were to fit together, this is why they would fit.</p><p>(But really, this is just an excuse to write porn for these four.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Are to Me

**Author's Note:**

> So I found out that there have yet to be any fics for this foursome, which is shameful because Steve & Tony are kings of the Marvelverse and Bruce & Clark of the DCverse, and it's only logical (to me at least) that they would get it on at least once in the fandom. Here is me rectifying that injustice.
> 
> But really, I'm a Marvel girl through and through, but after seeing Henry Cavill in action last night, I knew a fic had to be written to honor him. So fangirl me decided that Clark/Tony needed to be done (because I love Tony), but then Steve/Tony is my OTP, so I knew Steve had to get in on the action, and then I thought that Clark and Bruce are the Steve/Tony of DCU, and suddenly--TADAA!--Steve/Tony/Bruce/Clark foursome. Yay!
> 
> (I may or may not have a tendency to take my favorite characters from different fandoms and smoosh them together in one porn-ridden fic. I may or may not do it for Steve/Tony and Charles/Erik, but we'll see if I ever finish that fic.)
> 
> Bruce and Clark may be OOC.

Watching Steve fuck into Clark was kind of like watching two comets collide. Minus the whole breaking chunks off of each other that colliding space rocks tended to do, the two super men were violent, powerful, nearly explosive. Tony half expected the steel-reinforced bed to cleave in half like the first time Steve and Clark fucked (which was why he and Bruce had built the replacement bed in the first place). But no, he was pretty confident of the bed’s integrity—it was the floors that were currently worrying him.

Steve grasped at Clark’s hips with a pressure Tony had ever only seen in machines designed to crumple steel, and he thrust into him with such force that their slamming hips sounded less like flesh slapping against flesh and more like bump cars smashing into each other. Any regular human would have been torn to shreds at Steve’s first thrust, but of course that wasn’t a problem for Clark with him being Superman and all. And maybe that was the reason behind such contradictory behavior from the two usually gentle, docile men—men who _literally_ would not hurt a fly much less their lovers—they, with their inhuman strength, always, _always_ had to keep themselves in check, to hold themselves back and pull their punches even against most villains, even against those who deserved it. But with each other, they didn’t have such notions of control (or rather Steve didn’t. Clark still did because Steve, after all, was still human, no matter how perfect a human he was. But at least with Steve, such pressure to maintain control was lessened, so Clark was more naturally himself with him than with anyone else on Earth).

Steve usually topped because his control could be discarded completely—and Clark shamelessly encouraged him to do so because only a fucking as rough as Steve could dish out was really, truly satisfying for him on those days that he _needed_ to be fucked—but it wasn’t unheard of for Clark to take Steve who _thrived_ under such barely restrained power.

Sometimes, Tony imagined such power turned onto him, and in his fantasies where he, too, was a survivor of Krypton, he could see the both of them taking him the way they did to each other and stripping him down to his very core before building him back up again, better and stronger in every way, because that was the kind of people they were—not that they were ever lacking as lovers. Even while he knew they held themselves back when with him, they knew to give him exactly as he wanted, as he _needed_. More than once, they had stripped him down, past his armor, past his suit, past his external and internal defenses. More than once, they had also built him back up and turned him into what Tony could only hope was a shadow of their resemblance, of their innate _goodness_. No, he was never wanting for lovers in them. Nevertheless, his fantasies still existed because sometimes, when he watched them together, he wanted to give them a little bit of that back.

“Waxing poetical, Tony?” A calm whisper was his only warning before arms slithered around his waist and a clothed chest was pressed up against his own naked back. A belt buckle dug into the base of his spine, but the discomfort of it was miniscule compared to the heady rush that overcame him. He hummed noncommittally and tipped his head back against the shoulder behind him.

“You’re home early. Did the board finally man up enough to kick your lazy ass out?” he asked, a hint of tease in his mocking tone, but his words were ignored.

“I can see it in the line of your body, you know.” The whisper sent a warm gust of breath over his ear. A hand caressed his sides as if to demonstrate the words as it snaked down his body to wrap around his cock. “You make it so obvious when you watch them: how you wish you could be one of them and join in.” Tony moaned, neither agreeing nor disagreeing and focusing only entirely on the hand stroking him. “Sometimes I wonder how you could have possibly survived this long in your position when you wear your heart so visibly on your sleeve, but then I know you only do so for us, and I also know that no matter how hard you try otherwise, you can’t possibly help but do so, which makes it even better.”

“Bruce…” It was a moan of encouragement more than any form of protest Tony intended it to be.

“You can’t be what they are for each other, Tony,” Bruce said, none of his motions failing to break down every one of Tony’s thoughts. “And neither do they want you to be because you like this, pliant and fragile and so completely human, is what they really want.” His hand sped up in motion, and Tony unconsciously spread his legs open to accommodate him. His eyes slid shut, blinding him of the beauteous vision that was Steve and Clark, just before both men paused their own activities to watch Bruce take him apart. “To each other, they are a release from expectations and pressure and restraint, but you to them are an object of affection, a focus for their love. They need you to care for you more than they need you to care for them. You remind them that they’re human, just as much as they are inhuman.” He could only imagine how he looked, flushed and panting and spread out like a whore to every eye in the room, but he could barely care in light of Bruce’s words and actions.

“And—and you, Bruce?” he managed to ask. Bruce kissed his neck and stroked the inside of his thigh with his other hand, the action intended to draw Tony’s attention to his spread legs. It made him feel vulnerable to the three sets of eyes that watched him, but he wanted this too much to care, and more importantly, he knew with every fiber of his being that none of the men in the room would ever take advantage of the vulnerability so readily offered to them. “What am I to you?” he asked unnecessarily if only to regain some semblance of control. Bruce’s free hand drifted to Tony’s groin and nudged his balls aside to get at his hole. His fingers teased at the entrance and dipped in slightly as if the trigger for Tony’s moans rested just inside the tight ring.

“You,” Bruce started and paused as if trying to phrase his answer. It was a common verbal tool to create a sense of significance and sincerity, but even knowing that, Tony knew such significance and sincerity in the other man was not faked. “You are the thing I fight for. You are both my goal and my purpose.” Tony gave a surprised, self-depreciating laugh even through Bruce’s ministrations.

“And here I thought you fought for the innocent,” he said and then quite suddenly arched his back with a sharp gasp as Bruce drove his fingers into him. Bruce’s voice, when he spoke next, was the growl more commonly heard from Batman than Tony’s lover.

“You _are_ innocent—”

“ _I_ am the product of the good fortune of having an incredibly intelligent father and a consequence of such. I grew up and grew rich on a foundation of dead bodies of the innocent, Bruce. Nothing about me is innocent.” It was a feat of strength to be able to speak while Bruce sought to reduce him to incoherent moans and pleasurable acceptance and a test of will when Clark and Steve joined into the fray. They said nothing but instead kissed him to shut him up and touched him to shut his mind up.

“You are the product of a father who never cared for you. You are the victim of a man who did. You are the scapegoat of society that blamed you for its own shortcomings, and when you finally decided to stop being their excuse, you became their savior,” Bruce answered firmly. His fingers pulled out, leaving Tony empty, aching and abandoned, but it was momentary because they came back slick and pushing into him without hesitance. He arched again into Steve’s chest where the other was rocking against his front, but his answering cry was muffled by Clark’s lips. “You are the very definition of what I want the world to be, why I do what I do.” Tony pulled away from Clark’s kiss with a gasp as Bruce’s cock breached him. He opened his mouth to speak, but only another gasp and a moan escaped him as he was pitched forward into Steve’s chest.

“Y—you… And what are you to me?” he asked as the younger man pounded him up against the wall that was Captain America.

“We are your excuse,” Bruce answered instantly. It was vaguely annoying how not out of breath he was unlike when Tony spoke, but that annoyance was overshadowed by the indignance Tony felt at the answer. He opened his mouth to speak, but Bruce thrust in sharply, rendering all intelligent speech useless. So instead, Tony moaned and buried his face in Steve’s neck while the other billionaire fucked into him. He ignored the smug radiating off Bruce. “You rationalize Iron Man’s actions with the threat of us leaving. You claim to do good only to keep our relationship alive, which is as ridiculous as it is idiotic because even when you didn’t have us, you chose to do good anyway, and even if you no longer choose to be Iron Man, you would still have us.” Tony’s moans had long since transformed into whimpers and hiccups, and nowhere in there did he again try to deny Bruce’s assessment. “We shouldn’t be your excuse, Tony. We’re your reward for the good you’re doing.” He punctuated with a sharp thrust. “And your indemnity for the things you had to endure. We are your affirmation that you can have nice things too.”

“Getting—” Tony cut himself off to make way for a grunt. “—Getting a little too sure of yourself there, Wayne.” Bruce only laughed and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck while he continued to pound into Tony with the vigor of someone trying to make a point. Tony wasn’t embarrassed to say he clung to Steve a little more tightly than he actually needed to. The soldier tipped his chin up so that they could share a kiss while his hand sneaked down and caressed Tony’s raging erection. His mouth muffled Tony’s response that was supposed to go something along the lines of “Fuckyespleasenow.” And then Bruce slammed into Tony one last time and bit down on his shoulder to muffle his heavy groan as he emptied himself in the shorter man.

Tony said nothing about the way he had not yet come when Bruce pulled out after a long, still moment only because Steve was still staking ownership of his mouth. He felt the younger billionaire pull away completely, and after a brief chill from the air-conditioning washing over his bare back, another took Bruce’s place behind him. He felt the brush of a rock-solid cock against his back side, and Clark leaned over to brush his lips against Tony’s ear.

“Can I?” he asked, and Tony rolled his eyes so hard he was pretty sure he’d cramp his eye muscles.

“Oh my _god_ , Kent. One of these days, I’m going to say ‘no’ just to fuck with you.” Steve tried to muffle his laugh, but he obviously didn’t try very hard. “ _Yes_ , you can. I have _repeatedly_ given you unlimited access to my ass and told you you can choose to cash in your chips anytime.” Clark responded with a chuckle of his own before he, without further hesitance, sunk himself into the sodden Bruce-sized hole that his teammate left behind. Tony choked on his tongue when that happened because even if he’d already had a good reaming, Clark was still bigger than his teammate.

“Be nice, Tony,” Steve admonished. “Just because you don’t have a polite bone in your body doesn’t mean you can make fun of those who do.”

“Who says—uhn… says I can’t be polite? I can be—oh!—polite.”

“And when that happens, make sure to let me know so I can have JARVIS record it for posterity,” Steve teased with a laugh, but his fingers belied his tone because they were stroking the ring of muscle that was wrapped around Clark’s cock. Tony acquiesced to a moan and jerked Steve down for a kiss that was sloppy and wet and all the right kinds of dirty.

“Tell me,” Clark whispered into Tony’s ear, and the genius didn’t have to ask what because it was a question he always asked.

“Harder than that,” Tony answered through a groan when Steve released his mouth. “Like you do Steve.” Clark kissed his shoulder and gripped his hips tighter.

“Yeah okay,” he agreed, and Tony let out a quiet laugh.

“Liar,” he accused without heat.

“Not lying,” Clark retorted with a strong thrust that made Tony scramble for a handhold on Steve’s shoulders. “Like Steve… just proportionally.” Tony gave an exaggerated moan.

“I love it when you talk math to me, baby,” he said and earned chuckles all around, but then Clark was fucking him in earnest, and all semblance of rational thought fled quite quickly. Steve didn’t hesitate in rubbing up once more against Tony’s front while his hands squeezed into the space between Clark and Tony to grope at the engineer’s ass and drag him forward. His fingers slipped into the crevice to again stroke the stretched ring of flesh as well as Clark’s pistoning cock. Tony sensed a slight fixation which prompted him to say, “I can take you too.” Steve’s eyes flew open in surprise and not a little amount of trepidation, but beneath all of that, Tony could see a burning _want_ , so he said, “Fingers first, babe. Get me stretched,” which was a feat in itself because Clark’s thrusts grew staggered and erratic at his words.

“I don’t think… Tony—”

“Christ, Steve,” Tony griped through gritted teeth. “Are you expecting me to convince you when I can barely talk? Either do it or don’t. I’m telling you I want it, but make up your mind yourself.” Their bottle of lube was suddenly thrust in Steve’s face, and they all turned to see Bruce holding it out.

“He can take it. He _will_ take it. And you want it too, Steve,” he said. Steve bit his lip and gave it a moment’s thought, but Bruce added, “Either of you can safeword out of it,” so he eventually nodded and took the lube.

When the first finger slid into him beside Clark, Tony gave a strangled yell that almost had Steve reconsidering, but Tony quickly followed it up with a “No. Don’t. Go on, Steve. More, _please_.” Steve kissed him, slow and wet, as he slid his finger in and out and around Clark, and when Tony wriggled in impatience, he huffed a laugh and slipped a second finger in.

“See? He likes that, likes being filled so much. Too much,” Bruce murmured, settling behind Steve and wrapping his arms around his waist so that he could take both Steve’s and Tony’s cocks into his hand and stroke them at the same time. Tony gave another strangled shout, and his head tipped back against Clark’s shoulder. Steve’s fingers were moving in him, stretching him carefully and thoroughly, and though it felt amazing, it wasn’t what Tony wanted.

“Steve, please,” he tried again, pressing back against the fingers and Clark’s stilled cock. He didn’t see Steve’s silent response, but a third finger squeezed its way in beside the second, and it took all of Tony’s willpower not to come from the burning stretch of his ass and Bruce’s lazy stroking. He whimpered at the feel, reaching behind him to wrap his fingers around Clark’s curls. The alien tipped his head to the side and gave Tony a lazy kiss through the moans and whimpers and mewls that passed his lips. His cock was released from Bruce’s grasp, and he thought to protest, but then he felt Clark rearranging the both of them so that he was on his back and Tony was lying on top of him. His head fell onto the bed over Clark’s shoulder, baring his throat to anyone who wanted to take advantage of it, and soon enough, he felt a pair of lips run up it from clavicle to ear.

“Ready?” Bruce asked as Steve pushed his knees up and apart, and Clark held them in position.

“ _Yes_ ,” Tony croaked. “ _Please_ ,” he begged. Steve pulled his fingers out, leaving Tony loose and wanton, but he pressed his cock soon enough against the slack, filled hole and _pushed_. A slow cry was torn from Tony’s throat as Steve forced his way in. It was an incredibly tight fit, even with the prior fucking, even with the prep, even with all Tony’s _experience_ , but it felt fantastic on all ends. Bruce hummed against his throat and stroked his cock while Clark moaned and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. The head of Steve’s cock popped through, and a groan was pulled from him.

“God, _Tony_ …” Steve cursed. He was breathing heavily, Tony could hear, but he said nothing while Steve gathered the rest of his wits and resumed pushing in. Slowly, Tony was filled and stretched more than he had ever been before, more than he thought he was capable of because he had been half-lying when he told Steve he could take him: he _wanted_ Steve to, but he didn’t really think about whether or not he _could_. The burn of two cocks—two _above-average_ cocks—was almost too much. Tony couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, could only _feel_ , and when Steve finally seated himself beside Clark, Tony was so grateful for the long pause. Steve dropped his head to rest beside the arc reactor, allowing Tony the moment to adjust to the both of them, and when the furious buzzing in Tony’s brain died down, he could hear Bruce whispering lewd things at him.

“Look at you taking both of them,” he was saying. “You’re going to be so loose afterwards, won’t you? So damn easy for any cock that wants to fuck you.”

“Bruce…” Tony moaned, enflamed by his words.

“You like that: that you won’t need prep or lube and anyone can just bend you over and bare your ass and take you like the slut you are.” Bruce’s words were a cruel hiss, and Tony only blushed furiously at the idea that yes—yes, he liked that so much. Clark was the first to move. He pulled his cock out minutely, just enough to nudge Steve into action. Their first thrusts were small and barely pleasurable, cautious and somewhat worried, but Tony only reacted positively to each motion, so they pushed and pulled harder, moving opposite each other at first and then together afterwards.

Tony felt like he would explode when they started fucking him in earnest—nothing as rough as they usually did, but enough that Tony felt each thrust in every nerve ending in his body. By then, Bruce had pulled away from all three of them—to where, Tony couldn’t be assed to find out because the slide of two cocks in him was more than he could handle. The tell-tale heat of his orgasm pooled in the pit of his stomach, and he thought about delaying it a bit further, but Steve and Clark both wrapped their hands around him, and with a vague sense of embarrassment, he came, hard and suddenly and screaming, at the first grip, his vision whiting out from pleasure. They stroked him and fucked him through his orgasm, letting up not even slightly until oversensitivity overtook him and he whimpered to let them know. It was Steve who pulled out first and then Clark before both of them pressed kisses to his mouth, one after the other.

“Mmm…” he moaned in delight when all four of them settled down, each wrapped around the other.

“Good?” Clark asked, amusement coloring his tone.

“Excellent,” Tony agreed emphatically. “Definitely worth a repeat performance or two… or three, or—well, let’s just put it down at ‘indefinitely.’” Steve laughed and kissed him over Bruce and then kissed Bruce’s shoulder.

“I’m sure there’s little we could do to convince you otherwise,” he said.

“Oh, don’t act so high and mighty, Cap. I saw you enjoying it. I _felt_ you enjoying it,” Tony shot back, and then hummed thoughtfully. “Still feeling it actually.” Steve blushed but chuckled and nuzzled into the back of Bruce’s neck. Tony’s triumphant grin was smothered by Bruce’s slow, sweet kiss, and the other genius tugged his leg up over his waist. Tony felt sated and fuzzy in the afterglow of what had to be some of the best sex of his life in the best relationship he had ever had—up until he felt fingers prodding at and in his loose, aching, come-filled hole, and then the fuzziness was gone and replaced with sharp awareness and searing heat. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, Wayne,” Tony warned lowly through the shivers that ran across his skin.

“Who says I can't?” Bruce answered back, equally low and infinitely promising.

“Again already?” Clark laughed, unsurprised. “If I recall, Steve and I have the… how did you put it, Tone? ‘Refractory period of pubescent, teenage virgins.’ How is it that the two of you are the more insatiable?”

“I’m sorry, but have you _seen yourself_?” Tony asked in a borderline scandalized voice. “I am in a kinky foursome relationship with three of the hottest men in the world. You’re asking too much if you’re telling me not to get a hard-on every time I see any of you naked.”

“Nobody’s asking you to do anything, Tony. Hard-ons are always encouraged,” Bruce punctuated his words with a minutely sadistic grin and a sharp thrust of his fingers, three now, easy. Tony yelped once and then again when Bruce stroked his prostate. Steve and Clark shared a look over the two of them.

“Up for another round?” Clark asked with a tilt of his head and his classic farm-boy smirk, and that was _so_ not fair. He could get supervillains to surrender with that smile alone.

“Yes!” Tony piped in.

“I’m in,” Bruce grinned.

“Do I have a choice?” Steve answered.

“Do you _want_ a choice?” Tony shot back. Steve thought about it, his eyes darting to Bruce’s fingers.

“Point taken,” he eventually admitted before he was dragged into a kiss. Their bodies moved together like a well-oiled machine, slick skin against slick skin and both fleeting and meaningful touches drawn from memory and designed to cater to each other’s desires. It was so easy to fall into a rhythm known only to them, to play to the sensuality they designed for themselves, and it was something Tony knew he could do— _hoped_ he could do—always and forever because this? This right here was everything he’d ever wanted and everything he never knew he deserved, and he was going to be damned before he’d ruin it.

And then he suddenly reeled back from Steve’s mouth to send a poisonous glare at Bruce. All three of them drew back in surprise and waited for the explanation which Tony gave by punching Bruce on the arm. Hard.

“Oh and _fuck you_ , Batsy. I am not fucking _fragile_!”

The bastard only laughed.


End file.
